


rose gold

by exquisitelymorose



Category: Saint Maud, Saint Maud (2019)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29516721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exquisitelymorose/pseuds/exquisitelymorose
Summary: It swings between her breasts on a thin and simple chain, a rose gold “C.”Emboldened by champagne, embittered by illness, Amanda fingers it lightly from beneath her companion. She says something that maybe at another time, in a different life she wouldn't, “I want this.”
Relationships: Amanda/Carol, Carol/Amanda
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	rose gold

It swings between her breasts on a thin and simple chain, a rose gold “C.”

Emboldened by champagne, embittered by illness, Amanda fingers it lightly from beneath her companion. She says something that maybe at another time, in a different life she wouldn't, “I want this.”

Carols eyebrow lifts as it does, curious and playful, and she holds Amandas wrist gently while she swings a leg over to settle herself next to the thinning woman. 

“My necklace?”

“Mhm,” Amanda looks at her from beneath fluttering lashes with a wicked curve of her lips.

“Why?”

“To brand myself,” she runs a finger between Carols bare sternum, “to have you with me always.”

The younger woman props herself up on an elbow and looks down across the features of her lover. She’s wearing makeup, her head wrap. She’s trying to look the part of a woman she once was some time ago. Carol knows that their arrangement doesn’t exist because Amanda is the kind of woman who’d be lonely if she didn’t pay for company. 

Amanda was a wanted woman once. Deeply desired, adored by many. 

But now? Well.

There’s little incentive to give yourself to a dying woman.

“My father got me this.”

Theres a look of genuine curiosity, of question, across Amandas brow, “you never talk about your family.”

“They’re not really around anymore. But I wear this always, to keep them with me,” Carol curls her fingers around the charm, feels the slight edge of it against her palm, “do you still want to take it from me?”

She seems to ponder, genuinely, “I do. For a time.”

And Carol imagines that if she had an expiration date, she too might be so bold, a touch selfish. Because they both know what, “for a time” means. Weeks, maybe a few months and then Amanda will be gone. 

At some point Carol may stop coming, she doesn’t know. It’s not because she doesn’t care but rather because she does and there’s only so many ways she knows how to show that, only so many ways Amanda pays her to show it. All of them take her breath away and it won’t be so long until she has no breath left to waste. 

Someone will have to bury her and they won’t do it with the cheap, discolouring charm of another woman around her neck. If she unclasps it and hands it over, it’s a guaranteed return. Back in her palm before the year is up. 

She reaches around, behind her hair and undoes the clasp. She barely looks at Amanda, her gracious smile as she lifts her head and allows the chain to be placed lightly around her neck. Carol clasps it for her and watches as it falls into the pale curve of Amandas breasts.

It looks more dazzling on her. Most things seem to.

She’s not sure why she says it or how much she means it when she mutters, “it looks good on you.” But she feels strongly she’s telling the truth as she leans over and presses a kiss to the other woman's mouth, “I look good on you.”

Amandas arm snakes around her shoulders, fingers playing lightly against her skin, “you feel good on me.”

The other woman feels good against her. It’s made other clients so dull, knowing that somewhere in a decrepit mansion on a hill is a woman that makes her feel something, makes her feel warm and alive and loved. 

She settles a hand gently against Amandas breast, “we did this once already, you should rest.”

There’s a wounded look when she looks into hazel eyes. 

“I will say when I’ve had enough.”

This conversation is never about want, it’s never about desire. Carol knows that if she dips her fingers between Amandas legs, there’ll be nothing more than a light slickness left from her tongue. It’s about control. Amanda wants her body to do what it should be able to, to tell it that it must.

So she just keeps looking, with big, open eyes. Places her hand over the heart that pumps too hard, smooths circles with her thumb over the skin there and settles. Lets Amanda steal strength and ease from her gaze, feels the disappointment and the pain and the fight leave her body.

“Fine,” Amanda mutters childishly as if she had to say anything at all and Carol smiles.

They both settle and Carol fingers the necklace as Amanda had done to her. It looks strange, seeing her initial on a woman she knows she doesn’t belong to. She wonders if that’s how Amanda see’s her? As a part of her. 

She wonders, when she goes, how much it will feel like Amanda was part of her too.

**Author's Note:**

> God, I loved this movie. I loved Amanda. Leave kudos and comments if you'd like to read more.


End file.
